The rest of the weekend went by fairly quickly. Darry walked around outside a whole lot. He said he was 'working the kinks out'. Soda was
gone mostly all of the time, over working on that guy's car. Two-Bit came around Saturday evening, and stayed all thru Sunday.
It was around five o'clock or so on Sunday when things turned topsy-turvy. Again.
The telephone rang and I was the one who answered it. My hello was responded to by, "Hey, June? This is Butch. Darry up and
around? I need ta talk to him." Butch is Darry's friend, and also his next in line on the roofing crew.
I said okay, that I'd get Darry. I went to the front porch, where Darry was sitting in the porch swing, talking to Two-Bit and
Pony, who were both lounging on the front steps in the sunshine.
"Darry, it's Butch on the telephone," I told him.
Darry got up to go and pick up the receiver. I went on out to the porch. Two-Bit began to talk about his bottomless pit of a
stomach, and his hankering for some sweets.
"How's about ya make some fudge, Junie?" he suggested, looking hopeful.
I wrinkled my forehead at him. "Fudge is an awful lot of work, Two-Bit," I informed him.
"But it's so darn good," he protested. "Come on. Pony, ya want some fudge, too, don't ya?"
"I could manage to eat some," Pony said.
"Then you two go make it," I said.
"I'd only mess it up," Two-Bit said.
"And, I don't feel like doin' all those dishes afterwards," I added.
"We'll do the dishes, if ya make the fudge, won't we, Ponyboy?" Two-Bit coaxed.
When Pony shrugged in answer, Two-Bit turned his eyes on me. "Pleeeease, June-Bug?"
Before I could respond, we could hear Darry's raised voice from inside the house. Words sounding like 'cheatin' little weasel' and
'damn, no he's not!'
Immediately, we all exchanged glances.
"What's goin' on?" Two-Bit wondered.
"Who's he talkin' to?" Pony asked, getting to his feet, and going to stand near to the screen door to hear better.
"Butch," I said.
"Why'd he be yellin' at Butch like that?" Pony asked.
"I dunno," I said.
There was a bit more of the raised voice, though we couldn't catch all of the words. Pony opened the door,
and we went on into the living room, to stand there and watch, as Darry said, "Alright," real abruptly, and
hung up the telephone receiver.
Pony and I both watched as Darry stood there by the telephone for a minute, as though deep in thought.
"What's goin' on?" Pony asked him.
Darry's eyes landed on us, as if he hadn't noticed we'd been standing there.
"Just somethin' about work," Darry said, in answer, and went towards the kitchen.
We could hear him, rattling around in the kitchen, and, when Pony headed that way, I followed along.
Darry was in the process of starting a pot of coffee, and was using his good hand to measure out the coffee, and
then fill the pot with water.
"Butch okay?" Pony asked.
"He's okay," Darry said, taking the pot to the stove and setting it down, and then turning on a burner.
Pony and I exchanged another look. There was tenseness in every movement that Darry was making. It was as though
he was a tiger, stalking. Moving slowly, as if thinking out every move, very deliberately.
It would have taken someone almighty brave to approach him head-on, about what he was so riled about. I wasn't going to, and I guess
Pony wasn't, either, because Pony gave me a shrug, and went back out to the porch to rejoin Two-Bit.
Darry had gone back to sit on the couch, but he wasn't talking. He just sat, looking as though he was
thinking hard. Eventually, the coffee was done, and I brought him a cup. He took it from me, saying
"Thanks," but in an absent-minded sort of way. He seemed as though he was simmering.
Awhile after that, Pony stuck his head inside and said, "Hey, Darry-somebody here to see ya."
Darry got up, going to the screen door to look out. I was watching, and it seemed to me that his jaw got
even tighter.
He pushed the door open with the tips of his fingers, and stepped outside. I went to stand at the screen now, to
look out. I didn't recognize the car, or the man who was standing beside it. He was dressed in a fancy suit and tie,
and tugged his jacket straight as he stood there.
Darry went on past Two-Bit and Pony and I heard him say, "Pony, go on inside. Tell Junie I said for her to stay in
there, too."
"How come?" Pony asked.
"Go on," Darry said.
Pony came over to the door, and pulled it open, standing half in and half out.
"Who is that?" I asked.
"I dunno," Pony said. Two-Bit was standing up, too, by now, and came over closer to the door.
"Why's he want us to stay in here?" I asked. I knew Pony didn't know, either, so it wasn't a question that I expected an
answer for.
The three of us watched, as Darry went to the bottom of the porch steps, and then walked a few feet more, coming to
a stop about ten feet from the man and the car.
At first the voices were low, too low to make out all the words, but it wasn't but a few moments, and Darry's voice
began to raise.
"Ya aren't gonna stiff me, or my crew-" Darry was saying.
"I came here in good faith-" the other man said.
"Good faith, my ass," Darry said. "Ya owe for the job, and I want ya to pay. Now."
The other man lowered his voice, and said something, and Darry shook his head, stepping forward a few more steps.
Things like 'not the agreement', and 'nothin' but a cheater' were what we could hear.
The other man was shaking his head vigorously in denial of what Darry was saying.
"He didn't pay Darry for a job," Pony said, taking a guess.
"Is this the one with the bonus?" I asked. "Maybe he won't pay the bonus for some reason-"
And, then, before we could wonder anymore, or even see it coming, Darry had the man against the side of his car, holding
the front of the man's jacket with his right hand. And, man, did he ever slam that guy against the car! I knew it wasn't likely that
the other man had seen it coming at all.
He began hollering up a storm, (the other man), and it looked as though Darry was shaking him.
"Pony-" I said, pushing past and clutching at Pony's arm in panic.
"What the hell-" Pony said, and we were both at the bottom of the steps.
"Darry-what're ya doin'?!" Pony asked, sounding just as panicked as I felt.
Darry didn't answer Pony, or even act as though he heard.
"You've got until Tuesday mornin'," Darry said, his hand still wrapped around the man's shirt front.
"I told you, I'm not going to be able to manage until later this month. But, I'll pay you then, Darry, including
the bonus I promised-" the man said.
"Dammit, Rudge, I need the money now, not at the end of the month," Darry said, furiously.
For a moment I thought Darry was going to slug the man. He kept hold of the guy's shirt with his right hand,
and brought his left hand back. His left hand! The one in the cast!
I sucked in my breath, waiting for it to happen, and dreading it at the same time. What would it do to Darry if he
hit somebody with a broken hand? And, what would it do to the man if he was hit with a hand surrounded by a hard
cast?
But, then, Darry gave the man one last furious shake, and dropped both his left hand, and then his right, too.
"Tuesday, Rudge," Darry said, and then added threateningly, "Or I'll take it out of your hide." He turned
around and started back towards the house again, past Pony and me, and past Two-Bit, who was looking wary and
concerned.
I gave the man a last look. He was appearing to be shook up. He looked-well, he looked darn scared, is what he looked. He wasted
no time in going around the front of the car, to the driver's side. He opened the car door, and put one foot in, hollering back out
at Darry.
"Trying to do the right thing-coming over here to talk to you-and this is what I get for it!" he yelled.
Darry paused at the foot of the steps. "Tuesday, Rudge!" Darry yelled back, and then went up the porch steps and into
the house, letting the screen flap shut behind him.
The three of us exchanged a worried look, and then watched as the man got in his car and drove away.
"What the hell," Ponyboy said, in a wondering way.
"Maybe I oughta shove off," Two-Bit said.
"Nah, ya don't have to," Pony said.
"Yeah, but I don't think Darry's in the mood to have anybody 'round," Two-Bit protested.
"Two-Bit, come on," Pony said, and went up the porch steps. Two-Bit looked at me, and then followed Pony.
When we all went inside, we could hear Darry moving around in his bedroom, and then he came out, pulling on
a clean t-shirt over his bandaged ribs.
"I'll be back after awhile," he said, in a general way to all of us.
"Where are ya goin'?" Pony demanded.
"I've gotta see a couple of guys about work-" Darry said.
He was pulling down his t-shirt, and I said, "Darry-ya can't-ya aren't supposed to be drivin', even!"
"I can drive, Junie," he said.
"No," I insisted stubbornly. "The doctor said ya weren't supposed to do anything, just rest. And-"
"I'll be alright," Darry interrupted me, mid-sentence. His jaw was set, but I set mine, too.
"Ya have to take care of yourself-if ya don't, then ya might not get better!" I said.
"Junie, stop," Darry ordered, and I stopped, looking at him reprovingly.
"I'm okay to drive-I won't be gone long," he said. "We'll have supper when I get back."
"Well, I'll go with ya, then." Ponyboy announced.
"No. I'll go alone," Darry said, the tone of his voice brooking no further argument.
We stood there, staring at him, Pony and I in mutinous silent protest, and Two-Bit in wary confusion.
We followed him outside as he grabbed his truck keys from the hook by the door.
"This is bullshit, Darry," Pony said, giving it one more try.
"Yeah," I said in huffy agreement. "What are ya goin' to do? Go find that guy who didn't pay ya, and finish beatin' him
up?"
Darry stopped right there, on the front sidewalk, turning to level us both with a steely-eyed gaze. That look could
frost a person, let me tell you.
"Listen, you two, I'll be back. I need to see some people. Now, stop with the dramatics." He waved a hand. "Finish-whatever
ya need to finish. Do your chores."
Pony turned, and went back into the house, giving the screen door an extra hard slam.
"I'll be back," Darry said, once more, and went to his truck. He got in sort of stiffly, as if he had to think it out before
he moved, and then he started the motor, and backed out of the driveway.
Outsiders